“Paul? This is Bardin.” The Lieutenant’s voice boomed against Paul’s ear and spilt into the quiet tense hall.
As soon as Janey heard the voice, she clenched her fists and her mouth set in a hard, ugly line.
“You’ll want to be in on this,” Bardin went on. There’s been a massacre up at Dead End: June Arnot’s place. We’re knee deep in corpses, and one of them is June’s. Brother! Is this going to be a sensation! How soon can you get out here?”
Conrad pulled a face and looked at Janey out of the corners of his eyes. He watched her walk slowly and stiffly into the sitting-room.
“I guess I’ll be right over,” he said.
“Swell. I’ll hold everything until you get here. Snap it up. I want you here before the press get on to this.”
“I’ll be right over,” Conrad said, and hung up.
“Goddamn it!” Janey said softly. She stood with her back to him, facing the mantelpiece.
“I’m sorry, Janey, but I’ve got to go…”
“Goddamn it, and you too,” Janey said without raising her voice. “This always happens. Whenever we plan to go out, this happens. You and your stinking police force!”